Reality
by veebeejustte
Summary: Everything in the first two books, each suspenseful scene, has led up to this moment: the end. What happens? Is there sanity in this madness? Watch as the gang discovers what is behind their mythical evolutions, Ferbnessa (and Phinabella) reigns, Baljeet battles his mind, and Buford finds true love with... Brittany Tjinder? Rated T for death, romance, and monsters. Flame on, folks!
1. Prologue: I Don't Care What You Think

**A/N: Alright, another story! Does anyone see a pattern in the titles? Okay, I know, you're not idiots, of course you've noticed, but I still give myself credit for being so witty... Never mind. If you've read this far, congrats! This story's probably going to be the most unpopular one yet, seeing as sequels never get as much attention. So review, dang it! I got 82 in Mortality, then only 35 for Normality, so if the pattern continues, this one'll get 15 or so... Which is sad, because this is my favorite part by far... Anyway, this is where it gets confusing. There will be three main plotlines, in two different time periods, that meet up in the end. We'll start with a flashback, that follows indirectly with Ferb's timeline for this. Rant over. Sorry. Read now.**

Fifteen Years Ago

Chelsea Fletcher was dying, no doubt about it.

It had been a strenuous session of chemotherapy, and had taken a lot more out of her than the doctors had assumed.

Ferb Fletcher and his father now waited and watched as the woman slowly died.

Chelsea was at this point completely bald, except for one single streak of green hair in the front, which everyone except Ferb thought was extremely ugly.

Ferb had always liked green. At least his hair hadn't turned _pink_, right? He loved his hair, it was the only thing he had ever had in common with his mother. Except for his bleach-blond hair (turned green after the experiment), he was nearly an exact duplicate of his father.

Now his hair would be the only memory of her, the rest of his life. His mother's heart rate was slowing, and soon she would be gone forever. He would never see her again.

Or so he thought...

* * *

_Dear Readers,_

_Yeah, yeah, I get it. You want to know who I am, and why I hate Ferb. You probably want my head on a silver platter. I am, after all, the main antagonist._

_Trust me, if you knew my story, you would _not_ want my head on any form of platter..._

_Any guesses as to who I am? No?_

_Look at it this way: I'm an all-powerful Author who has full dominion over the world of Phineas and Ferb who just hates Ferb for some reason._

_Or this way: This is all fake. Veebeejustte has made this all up._

_Or you could use some other explanation. I don't care. You'll never guess the truth unless I tell it to you myself, and that's not happening._

_Now, some obvious facts: I'm a fourteen (almost fifteen at this point) year old girl, with red hair and blue eyes that need Phineas' glasses to see correctly. I hate Ferb for a very good and very secret reason, but he hasn't done anything to me yet, making me from the future. These will be the foundation upon which any good guess should start._

_Now, for my story._

_ This will unfold in a rather confusing manner._

_You are all wondering what happened to Baljeet, and Buford, and (most of all) Ferb. So, I've devised a way of organizing this: next chapter, you'll see Buford, after that, Baljeet, and after that, Ferb. Then we'll see some other random scene with Phineas or perhaps Chelsea Fletcher... Or another one of my rants. They'll rotate._

_I'll warn you before reading this, though. This story doesn't have a happy ending. It's bittersweet at best, and their struggles won't be over afterward._

_So come one, come all..._

_To my story..._

_**REALITY**_

_Sincerely,_

_The Author_

**A/N: Man, that was as short as my chapters in Mortality! That's probably not the best way to start this, but... Meh, who cares? I'll live, and I trust you guys to flame if it was really that bad. Wait, I do? Fine. I'll just post it.**


	2. Crushes, Confusion, and Chelsea

**A/N: Here we have my first try at this new layout. There are three scenes here, showing each of the main characters. Next chapter, we'll see Phineas and Isabella, and perhaps some other characters, too... Oh yeah, and Buford's timeline is a bit different from everyone else's. The first section is in November, before Ferb's death, and the others are right where we left off at the end of Normality.**

He observed the extreme beauty of the girl, who was at the time practicing her cheers on the sidelines. "So, Van Stomm..."

Her eyes were like looking into the ocean. "Van Stomm?"

Her hair was golden, and shone in the radiant sunlight. "Van Stomm?!"

Her cheer uniform showed off her body, skinny where it mattered, and beautifully toned everywhere else. "Van Stomm!"

Why must she be so incredibly sexy? Why?!

"Van Stomm!" The Coach yelled.

Buford finally turned to the enraged man. "Yes, sir?"

"Now, if you're done looking at the cheer section, would you please get off the field?" The man growled.

"But Coach-"

"No excuses! You've been either late, distracted, or overly violent every single practice this year. Our team would be better off without you, so out!"

Phineas butted in, "Coach, I know that-"

"And not a word from you, Fireball, unless you wanna leave too!" The Coach glared at him.

"Gladly," Phineas smirked. "It's almost the end of the season, anyway."

"Alright, go then!"

Buford ran off, but it was no use trying to outrun a werewolf. "Hey," Phineas greeted.

"Thanks for that, Dinner Bell. I really need to stop bein' an idiot."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I mean, you were just trying to make sure Britt doesn't try to pull a diva stunt, which is a completely valid concern," Phineas replied naïvely.

"I wasn't-"

Phineas interrupted, "No really, it's cool. I'm not gonna stop you. She really seems to like you, y'know."

"Actually, I was lookin' at Brittany for a different reason..." Buford blushed.

"Okay, never mind then... If you don't mind my asking, why /were/ you looking at her?"

"Dude, have you seen her? She's the sexiest thing since Baljeet's seventh grade math teacher!" Buford made sure no one was looking.

"You mean that twenty-three year old calculus major that hooked up with our retired Biology teacher?" Phineas asked innocently enough.

"She did what?! Never mind... Yeah, her." Buford seemed pretty sickened by this.

Then it finally dawned on Phineas: "Wait a minute, you like her, don't you?"

Buford shot him a look, "No freakin' duh! Wow, I sympathize with Girly, you're hopeless!"

"Touché..."

Phineas pondered this newfound information for a moment, then a looked of disgust revealed itself. "What if you two start dating, and just as you lean in to kiss her, she turns back into-"

"Don't even go there, Phineas, or you'll have yourself another black eye."

Phineas winced, "Naw, I'm good. I try to limit myself to one per year. But I suppose you liking Brittany makes up the serious dirt you have on me and Isabella, right?"

Buford chuckled, "You kiddin' me? Half the guys in the school like her. You've still got nothin' on my film."

"So if I just screamed to the universe, 'BUFORD LOVES BRITTANY!', then-"

"Oh, you little..." Buford grumbled, chasing after him with some very violent plans, but Phineas was gone.

"I swear, when I get my hands on him, he's dead meat!" Buford told the empty street.

He walked in silence, thinking of Baljeet and Brittany. Of course, Phineas was right. There was no way things would work out between him and Britt. It was just too risky.

Then again, better him than some other guy. He could only imagine if she got together with Django or someone, and she suddenly turned into Baljeet. Laughing at this, he figured that he'd probably be the best one for the job, seeing as Phineas and Ferb were both taken.

Of course, he was probably just rationalizing his feelings for her. It was useless to decide for himself.

Finally arriving home, he dropped his backpack and raided the fridge, thinking of his mother's reaction when she discovered that he was cut from the team.

* * *

Remember that other wake-up scene I had to be at? This is what I was referring to:

Baljeet had a horrible headache. He had just had the strangest dream...

Sitting up and recognizing the haphazard landscape, he face-palmed. "Of course it had to be real... I hate my life."

"Brilliant," The Author said, a smile on her face. "I was just about to announce your imminent death!"

"What?!" Baljeet shouted, obviously terrified.

The Author rolled her eyes, "Kidding. Gee, I bet the readers would not be surprised, though..."

"Umm... Okay..."

"Oh, that is right! You were gone the whole last book, and a bit of the first, too! You haven't seen /anyone/ die!"

Baljeet's look of extreme fear appeared once more,"Someone died? Who?!"

"Just Ferb and Vanessa, so far!" She replied cheerfully.

"And what was that you said about the last book?" Baljeet couldn't calm down. Things were just too weird. "How long was I asleep in here? Something knocked me out...

"Well, I suppose that would translate to... What? Seven months? Yeah, that's about right."

"Seven months?! I was out for /that long/?!" Baljeet's voice came out an octave higher than it was supposed to.

"Yup," was all the Author had to say.

"So how do I get back to the real world, anyway?" Baljeet raised an eyebrow, finally gaining a sense of peace.

"Do you remember," the Author gave a sly smile, "when you and the gang were inside Candace's mind?"

"Yes... Wait a minute! Must I encounter my- my Id?!" Baljeet looked up fearfully.

"Perhaps. You must either make it to the center of your subconscious, or scare yourself awake."

Baljeet sighed. "Who are you, anyway?"

The girl smiled. "I'm special, to be frank."

Baljeet flinched. "Would you please not use contractions in here?"

"I'll use mah frickin' contractions if I wanna, an' ya ain't stoppin' me!" She smiled.

Baljeet gave her the evil eye.

"Okay, that didn't work. Let's get to the center of your brain!"

"You know, I would probably get there more quickly without you," Baljeet pointed out.

"Oh, Jeet, I'm offended. Very well, I'll leave you to best your mind trap by yourself. Best of luck to you."

And then she was gone, with naught but a map left in her place. Picking it up, Baljeet saw a message written on it: THREE DAYS, OR ALL HOPE IS LOST.

"Well, that is the most optimistic sentence I have ever heard," Baljeet commented sarcastically. "Three days? I am going to fail..."

* * *

Here she was, face-to-face with Ferb. She looked just as surprised as he did. "Ferb! You've joined me!" She quickly embraced him, a huge smile plastered on her face.

As she drew back, Ferb blinked, and paused for a moment.

"Mother?" He asked incredulously.

"Why, of course!" Chelsea replied. "Who else? A bit sad that you died so young, but at least you're here with me now, right?"

"Yes," Ferb replied absentmindedly, still in shock. "Yes, of course, Mother."

"You know, I saw everything you did with that Phineas bloke, and I'm proud. I wish I was there to see you become so great! Oh, till you got turned into one of those bloodsuckers, that is..." Mrs. Fletcher ended her rant, staring off into space. Observing her son's expression, she asked, "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

Ferb seemed to snap out of his trance, "No, mother, I'm just fine. How would I get sick in Hell, anyway?"

"We're not in Hell! Ferb, you've landed yourself in the most neutral spot of the afterlife!"

He looked at the red sky and flames. "You sure about that?"

"Absolutely certain. Now," Chelsea said with a smirk, "I believe you've got a date with a certain Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, am I wrong?"

Ferb shook his head, "I need to find her as soon as possible. Us there any way to Heaven from here?"

"Well, you can get there fairly quickly by motorcycle..." Chelsea replied.

"How am I supposed get a-?"

Suddenly, a motorcycle appeared right in front of him.

"Oh. I suppose that works." Boarding the vehicle, he spoke to his mother, "It was wonderful to see you again, but I must be off."

"I understand," Chelsea responded. "It's a little odd to call you my son when you only look a little younger than me, anyway. Bye, Ferb!"

Speeding off, he yelled, "Bye, Mother!"

/I thought this was supposed to be difficult/, he thought. /At this rate, I be there in an hour.../

That's when the universe exploded.

**A/N: No, the universe didn't actually explode... You'll see... Bye for now!**


	3. The Werewolves Speculate a Cure

**A/N: Okay, since school's starting again, I'm gonna reduce my update schedule for this to once every two weeks, so I can write my Ferbella fic. Sorry if this is inconvenient, and I may be able to get something done in this last week of summer, but I've got five honor's classes, band, possibly marching band, and any clubs that I find necessary to engage in... So yeah. Here's the next chapter:**

The alarm blared, and Phineas pounded it to pieces. Groaning, he attempted to fall asleep once more, failing miserably. Memories of last night burned a hole of guilt in his brain. Checking to make sure it wasn't a dream, he peered toward the other side of the bed. There she lie, peacefully sleeping. Phineas almost gasped, though he'd been expecting this. What had he been thinking? Hadn't he promised Ferb that he wouldn't act up? But beyond it all, he had to admit that he had enjoyed last night, as guilty as he felt thinking it. Shivering at the thought, he fell back onto his bed. He couldn't bear to look at her.

The moment he thought that perhaps he could fall asleep again, Isabella stirred, and sat up. "Phineas?" She called drowsily. "Phineas..."

The universe pretty much hated him. Sighing, he replied, "Yeah?"

Finally awake enough to locate him, Isabella collapsed on top of him and kissed him, taking Phineas completely by surprise. Forcefully, he broke the kiss and pulled her at shoulder length. He wasn't ready to do this again.

"What is it, Phineas?" Isabella asked, confused by this.

"I can't..." Phineas barely managed to say.

Isabella laughed. "Well, you didn't have any problem last night..."

"I know, I know. I had too much on my mind to think about what we were actually doing. Now... I just don't feel like I can without being torn apart by the guilt," he finally told her. He stood up and put his clothes on, then left the room via the window (more out of habit than necessity; he wasn't hiding the fact that he was leaving.)

Isabella gave a low whistle. "Someone just turned into a stress-case." It took a moment before Phineas' exit sank in. "Wait!" She yelped, and was about to follow him until she realized that she probably wanted clothing. She quickly dressed, and jumped out the window, knowing exactly where he'd gone. Since summer began, Phineas had been visiting there almost every day. It seemed like self-inflicted torture to her, for it simply reminded him why it took so much longer to build things, and why they were both still werewolves.

She found him knelt down at Ferb's grave, tears rolling down his face. She really didn't want to interrupt him; he had been so close to Ferb, and this seemed to be the only way to connect to him. She found it depressing that "Phineas and Ferb" was no more, that Gretchen had gone psycho, and that Phineas' motivation to live was lost in the mists of time (okay, perhaps that was exaggerating a bit, but still...)

"Phinny..." Isabella mumbled under her breath. "What's on your mind?"

That was a stupid question. Why had she asked that? Phineas gave the obvious response, "Ferb. I miss him, Iz. He promised me he'd come back, and I know it's crazy, but I keep finding myself waiting for him... I want him alive again..." Perhaps Phineas was typically more eloquent, but now he had trouble finding words to speak, people to talk to. He felt the same way Ferb often described himself feeling: strained for speech, growing tiresome of people in general.

Isabella put a hand on his shoulder, and sat with him in silence. There didn't seem to be anything to say. Phineas wouldn't take well to her condolences, and he himself didn't feel the need to speak. She almost smiled, absorbing the full meaning of the phrase. Phineas didn't want to talk! How could this be? What could have scarred him this much? Even Ferb's death didn't seem like a valid reason for Phineas not to speak.

And what had he said about Ferb coming back to life? Now that was impossible, no matter how amazing these boys were. They were inventors, not miracle-makers, for crying out loud! If Phineas turning into a werewolf had made him lose his edge, then Ferb's death had driven him bonkers. Should he be seeing a psychiatrist? Well, maybe if he wasn't a werewolf...

Then she had her 'Eureka Moment'. Awhile back, her father (another resident werewolf) had commented on the vast emotional reactions caused by certain events in the mind of a werewolf. Why Isabella hadn't had any form of reaction was beyond her, but this was probably why Phineas was so un-Phineas-like. If she could find out how to reverse the effects, then she would have her Phineas back again. But of course, she realized, Phineas would probably feel at least a bit better if he had a large-scale invention to work on. Perhaps they could finally find a cure, and become human again... If they put in enough effort, that would be simple enough, right? Upon realizing her discoveries, she thought, _Wow, when did I get so smart? That sounds like something Baljeet would concoct!_

"Phineas," Isabella exclaimed confidently, "I know what we're gonna do today!"

Phineas turned and raised an eyebrow, "Umm... And what would that be...?"

"We're gonna turn human again," Isabella replied immediately, sure of herself.

"Alright, I'm game," Phineas managed a small smile. "I'm gonna need two full-functioning computers, a bus pass, thirty-two feet of wiring (give or take), a jar of mayonnaise, a soldering iron, a legal pad, Ferb's tool box, fifty-seven bucks, someone asking where Perry is, a few dozen construction workers, a contractor, four cups of de-caffeinated coffee, and the best kiss you can give me."

"Deal," Isabella giggled as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a deep smooch on the lips.

Phineas Flynn was back in business.


	4. This One Didn't Quite Hit 1000 Words

**A/N: Dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang, dang! Congratulate Ms. Broken Deadlines for waiting _three whole weeks_ to update her stupid story! Gee, I'm terrible. Devious. Atrocious. Inhumane, if melodrama suits you. As has become tradition, you may type "something" into the box below this chapter as punishment for my horrid endeavors. And I ensure you, the next wait will be much shorter.**

Blushing, Buford averted his gaze. She seemed so confident, how was he supposed to ask her out?

Apparently, Brittany noticed his wistful glare, for she gave a disgusted look and went off with the other cheerleaders. She knew as well as he did why that wouldn't work, and frankly, she didn't care for Buford anyway. Much to Buford's distaste, his love interest was pretty much a hot, sexy, feminine, less intelligent replacement for his best friend and former prime target, Baljeet Tjinder. Where he had gone and when he'd be back were shrouded in mystery, but it was utterly confusing to him that they were the same person. There was but one thing he was sure of- he loved each of them in a totally different way; he missed Baljeet, and whenever he came back, he'd miss Brittany. If only she and Baljeet could exist at the same time!

Then again, would Baljeet like this? Buford falling for a female version of him? Totally not something best friends would do. It was like that stereotypical "best friend's sister" story, except about ten times worse.

But who was he to control love? He never chose to fall for Brigitte, she just felt right. And now, six years later, here he was, in the same situation, except Brittany had to be about twenty times hotter and he saw her every single day. She was unavoidable! Every time he turned a corner, walked into his science class, went over to see if Werewolfeas and Vamp were finally done moping around, each and every sports practice, meet, or game, there she was, as beautiful as ever, taunting him with her short-shorts and tube tops, flashing her devious-yet-slutty smile.

Brittany was a plague, a disaster, a bombshell. He couldn't get his mind off of her.

Finally realizing that he was just standing around when he could be catching up to her, Buford ran in the direction that Brittany went off. Upon reaching her, she turned to look at him.

Her slutty cheerleader sidekicks were gone, as was her disgusted gaze. "Hey, Byoof, 'sup?"

It was so casual, yet so brilliantly spoken, smooth as silk with a kind yet vaguely haughty sort of "in your face" edge to it. How could he possibly compete? Collecting himself a bit, he replied, "Nothin' much," under his breath, scratching the back of his head as his cheeks turned red.

"Okay then," Brittany said. "Do you have something to ask me?"

"Well... I, uh... I just... Um, well..." Buford couldn't find words, and looked like an absolute idiot as he stuttered and prattled.

The head cheerleader was starting to grow impatient. "Whatcha tryin' to say, Byoofie?! Spill it!"

Buford fell silent, at a loss.

"Alrighty then," Britt rolled her eyes, "I'll just be going then." She turned and started walking away.

"Wait!" Buford called, and Brittany stopped dead in her tracks.

"I'm listening, but you better have something good to say this time."

"I do, I promise!" Buford stepped up a little closer. "Look, it's a little stupid, I mean, there are probably a zillion other guys you'd rather go with, but would you like to be my date for the New Year's Party at the Hirano's next Thursday?"

Brittany sighed. "Byoofie, both of us know that I would be totally psyched to go with you, but-"

"Yeah, yeah, turning into Baljeet, Et cetera; et cetera," Buford accurately imitated. "Truthfully, I could care less," he brushed a stray hair (the first he had ever seen on that platinum-blonde mane) behind her ear, and ever so slowly leaned in as...

As Brittany shoved him away and started booking it down the road, miniskirt flexing unmistakably all the way. Muttering dirty words under his breath, Buford turned around and made his way home.

It was only a few minutes after he walked through the door that his cellphone went off. Taking it out, he discovered a text:** _super srry i flipped out on u their. Id love to be ur date! #Britt_**

What the hashtag was for, Buford had no idea, but he cheered and pumped his fist nonetheless.

He would be going to Ginger's amazing party, and he would be going with the sexiest girl in the school.

Heck, he felt so good, he might actually do his math homework tonight! Chuckling to himself, he shook off such ridiculous notions and texted Brittany: **_Awesome! See ya tomorrow!_**

He felt so excited, he could've been diagnosed with cancer right then and not have cared. The thought repeated itself over and over, engraving itself into Buford's skull: _I'm finally going out with Brittany!_

In short, Buford's life was awesome. Baljeet's, on the other hand? Not so great...

**A/N: And now I've left you off at a cliffhanger, too! Oh, woe is me! Yeah, yeah, et cetera. Shoot me, stalk me, flame me. I hate myself... Kidding. And thanks a million to glynrh19 for being awesome and reminding me! (If you wish to be uncredited, as many authors do, you may request for me to take off this part.)**


	5. Siren Mishti and the Banana Cream Pie

**A/N: As I said on my profile, school's stressing me to no end, so my updates are gonna get really slow. I'm really sorry everyone, and I promise, I'm not abandoning this trilogy, it'll just be slower going from here until Thanksgiving break. I've decided to put Typical Runaway Story on hiatus until then, followers of that story, which should provide more time to write this, but... I dunno. If it's updated, brill; if not, assume I'm busy. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, though.**

The acid rain fell from the hot pink sky, onto a hill covered in brown, wilting grass. On the hill sat a long wall made of solid diamond, set with sharp spikes made of steel. Attacking the ridiculously wall was a wimpy-looking teenaged boy, with dark curly hair and tannish skin. He was cursing in Hindi, and looked incredibly unhappy with his situation. Of course, you would probably be unhappy too if you were trapped in your subconscious with three days to get out before you died, as was Baljeet Tjinder here.

Baljeet's fingers were bleeding from punching the wall so hard. Logic told him that there was no way he could ever punch through that wall, but if the Siren Mishti said that was what must be done, he was happy to oblige.

He did not even know why he was so willing to trust her. It may have been the fact that she looked exactly like Mishti, but the Siren part made more sense. In ancient myths, Sirens lured men into obeying their will by magical charms and extreme beauty, so perhaps that was it.

Then again, if he was trapped in his own mind...

He slammed his fist into the solid rock once more, and immediately yelped in pain as the blood gushed from his fingers. His pinky was rendered immovable, which was never a good sign, and the toxic, acidic rain (it was legitimately a mixture of lemon juice and toxic waste) provided little aid. He yelled, and cursed, and screamed; even used the word "ain't" at one point. "This _sucks_!" He screamed to no one in particular.

Then he heard a weeping in the distance. It was a very ladylike weeping, and it carried a great deal of elegance, making Baljeet feel guilty right away. "Mishti?" He asked gently, walking back down the hill.

"I'm sorry, Baljeet, you have frightened me. I know this is really hard on you, but your Id- that is to say, the center of your brain, is right behind it," Siren Mishti said sweetly.

"Wait a minute, what was it you said there? About the Id?" Baljeet questioned suspiciously.

"Oh, but that was nothing, my dear, nothing." Something flickered after she spoke, and if just for a nanosecond, she was no longer Mishti.

"What was that? Mishti? You simply cannot claim that was nothing!" Baljeet remarked fearfully.

Mishti opened her mouth, but another deep, gravelly voice came out. "It is nothing. I am the Siren Mishti."

"Dark Saber? Is that you?" Truthfully, why not? Nothing was off-limits, it was his subconscious.

Sadly, there was no ultimate evil force from the first fifteen episodes of Space Adventure to be seen. In his place was something much worse:

"When I get my hands on you, Nerd-Boy, I'm gonna throttle you!"

"Buford?" Baljeet was shaking like a leaf, "You do not want to do that, do you?"

Buford laughed, as he drew a fearful weapon from nowhere in particular- a BB gun somehow seemed the scariest thing his subconscious could come up with- and pointed it at his head. "Well, what're ya waitin' for? Run, you idiot!"

Baljeet was half a mile away before he turned off autopilot and started to truly think.

What in the world was going on? Why was it so important that Buford throttle him? All thoughts came from somewhere; did Buford actually want this?

All were atrociously frightening, but even worse was the looming thought... He had thirty-six hours, and he was no closer to the center of his brain than when he had started. Perhaps this was a wild goose-chase; he would be trapped in here forever, slowly losing sanity.

His eyes widened in realization, and he began to panic. The thought of being trapped in this madhouse- forever- was more than enough to make one angry at their circumstances. Why did he have to be here? Where was here, anyway? And why did he get the growing suspicion that he was not in his brain at all? And whose brilliant idea was hit to have Buford masquerading as Mishti?

Oh, that was right, it was his.

Sighing in defeat, he decided to lie down for awhile.

That was when the truth hit him in the noggin, in the form of a banana cream pie.

**A/N: Yes, you read that right. Baljeet got hit in the head with a pie. Don't ask how or why. It just happened.**


End file.
